


A Princess & Her Knight

by GoodnightAndJoyBeWithYouAll



Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, F/M, First Time, Fluff, Loss of Virginity, Love Confessions, Star-crossed, ichabbie - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-10
Updated: 2016-07-10
Packaged: 2018-07-22 16:13:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7445536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoodnightAndJoyBeWithYouAll/pseuds/GoodnightAndJoyBeWithYouAll
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tomorrow, Princess Abigail Mills will spend the day getting married. </p><p>Tonight, however, she will spend with the one she loves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Princess & Her Knight

**Author's Note:**

> Fair warning: If you entered this story thinking that Crane and Abbie end up getting married, to quote my fave Eggsy Unwin: This ain't dat kinda movie, bruv. Both characters understand their circumstances and the fact that their sacrifices mean the survival of everyone else (much like the fictional characters they are based on).
> 
> Also: I do not own Sleepy Hollow because trust me if I did that thing that happened. WOULD. NOT. HAVE. HAPPENED.

_Knock, Knock._

“Enter.”

Ichabod took a deep breath before placing his hand on the doorknob and doing as he was told. He quietly entered the room and shut the door behind him, his eyes roaming the space, surprised to see how many changes had happened since the last time he was inside: daisies instead of sunflowers sat in the vase on the desk, the bearskin rug that usually sat in front of the fire had been removed as well as the other winter furnishings, and the quilt that had been taking up space at the end of the four-poster bed for years was nowhere in sight.

“Sir Crane.” Ichabod could feel his heartbeat pick up in speed upon hearing his name and he turned to the large window before dutifully falling to one knee, his eyes trained on the floor. “Look at me, Crane.” The voice rang out again and he reluctantly raised his gaze, his regret instant as he felt all of the breath leave his lungs.

Princess Grace Abigail Mills was the single most beautiful creature Ichabod Crane had ever laid eyes on and she had been for years. Members of the court had enjoyed picking on the king’s youngest child due to her small physical stature, but even in childhood, she had always had the ability to command all the attention in a room simply by entering it. She was the most well-known of Sleepy Hollow’s royal children, her elder brothers choosing to spend their time focusing on the business side of running the kingdom, while Abigail had instead focused on getting to know the people in it. The children of the country had even nicknamed her “Princess of the Flowers”, the result of her spending so much time outside of the castle that she would more often than not end up with cherry blossoms in her hair as they fell from the trees. 

Ichabod had met the princess on the eve of her 11th birthday through less than fortunate circumstances. The king had been making rounds through the kingdom and no one had been surprised when there was suddenly a trailing line of people following him. Like his daughter, the king had always strived to be a man of his people, and would, much the dismay of his advisors and knights, frequently stop their missions in order to simply be with the commoners, getting off the back of his horse and choosing to walk as he listened to their stories, visited their homes and played with the small ones. He had just dismounted for the who-can-even-keep-track-anymore time when a man had jumped from the crowd, his right hand extended outward. The king had reached out his own to shake when the man pulled back and withdrew a sword from his side, raising it back and plunging it deep, the steel blade tearing through bone and flesh until it reemerged, covered in blood out the other side. Unfortunately for him, it wasn’t in the body he had intended.

One second Ichabod could remember feeling the body heat of his father standing next to him, and the next second, his side was cold and the man he looked up to was standing in front of him, a sword through his chest with his right hand still outstretched from where he had selflessly pushed the king back before taking the hit himself. It took a few seconds for everyone to catch up with what had occurred but once they did, everything seemed to be moving two times as fast: one knight cut off the would-be assassins head while the others formed a huddle around the king, all the commoners ran for their lives, fighting and yelling in case they be attacked next, and Ichabod sank to his knees beside his father, unable to do anything besides stare at the unmoving body in shock.

When the area was empty save for the Cranes and the king’s guard, his head advisor ordered him back onto his horse so that they could make their way back to the castle where it was safe. The king had started to but stopped, making his way over to Ichabod. He stood over the boy as he ordered that he be brought clean linens and a sack, his men rushing to comply. He had them remove the sword (he covered Ichabod’s eyes with his hands during this, something Ichabod was grateful for to this day) before wrapping the body in the fabric and sack and placing it on the back of a horse before promptly hopping on his own and pulling the still stunned child up with him. The small party made their way back to the castle with the king declaring that the deceased would be given a proper burial. He had had a servant show Ichabod to one of the guest rooms, and the then 13-year-old had silently taken a seat on the bed, still too much in shock to truly comprehend the situation. He couldn’t have been in the room for more than ten minutes when there was a knock on the door and a tiny head had poked in. A small girl wearing a dress a little too long with more curls than he had ever seen in his life made her way over to him, stopping only when her face resided less than a foot away from his own. For a while she seemed content to do nothing more than stare at him and just when it was airing on the side of being too uncomfortable, she opened her mouth to speak. _‘Your daddy saved mine’s life, yes?’_

_‘…yes…’_

_‘Well where is your mother? Why is she not here with you?’_

_‘She is dead. Sh-she died. A few days after I was born.’_

_‘Oh. So then…You are alone? Like you do not have anybody?’_

_‘No. No, I, I guess I don’t have anybody…’_ The girl had slowly nodded as she thought his answers over before rushing out of the room without another word. Ichabod had hoped that she would return but when it had been five minutes with no sign of her, he had flopped backwards on the bed, the shock of the day finally beginning to wear off, and leaving him feeling both empty and mentally and emotionally trained. Just when he thought he couldn’t take anymore and was about the scream, the girl reappeared, only this time she had a plate of cake in each hand.

 _‘Here.’_ She said sitting down next to him on the bed and offering him one of the plates. “Father said we can’t have cake until later tonight but I told Mary what happened and she said she would make an exception.”

_’Wha-why, why are you doing this?’_

_‘Because you said you had nobody and I’ve decided that now you have me.’_ She had firmly stated and any arguments he had tried to bring up against it had been shut down before they were even fully out of his mouth.

His father’s funeral had been held the next day and she had stood by his side during the entire thing, her small hand engulfed in his. Ichabod had been moved into the home of one of the king’s guards, and a few days later he had officially begun his apprenticeship and training in order for him to become a knight. He spent over a year thinking that the idea had come from the king as a way to pay back his father for his sacrifice, only for the king to correct him by saying that the plan had been formulated by none other than his daughter, with her claiming that certain things like bravery and loyalty had to run in the blood and that that was the kind of man that he needed as part of his guard. Ichabod believed with every fiber of his being that that had been the moment he had fallen in who heartedly and irrevocably in love.

After that day, it hadn’t been unusual to find the two of them together: Princess Abigail always talking up a storm while Crane walked two footsteps behind her, listening intently and hanging onto her every word. Their friendship had been a frequent topic of gossip within the court, with more than a few members going to the king and telling him that he needed to separate the two of them before “something despicable happened”. The king never listened though, always giving the same response of _‘save my life, and I will take your opinion into account. Until then, go back to stuffing your face and let my child be a child.’_ That was when Ichabod fell in love with the entire royal family.

After helping to save an entire nearby village from a fire, Ichabod had been formally knighted at the age of seventeen, making him the youngest person to be knighted in a century. Abigail beamed proudly at him from her father’s side. He had immediately been appointed her protector, her own personal knight. He would ride beside her on patrols, sit behind her during court and do everything within his power to ensure her safety, a job he had already been doing for a while. For two years, they existed in their own little bubble of harmony and there were days when Ichabod could have sworn that the two of them were the only people in the entire world. 

Then Abigail turned 17.

With two healthy older brothers (the eldest already having a wife and a child), it was always known that the princess would eventually be married off, a fact that previously, had been abled to be ignored. The king had wanted her to be fully ready to help govern a nation before she’d be forced to do so and had refused to allow any suitors into the kingdom until her schooling was completely finished.

The first one, a prince from two kingdoms away, sent her sweet candies from the West Indies as a birthday present, the gift arriving the day after the celebration. She had sent him a letter, thanking him and invited him to visit the castle. He miraculously found a way to make the usually five-day journey in three.

He had been there less than a full week when the king had banished him, having overheard him talking to one of the guards about how he couldn’t wait to marry her, to see if she was just as fearsome on her back as she was standing up. Ichabod had been given the honor of literally throwing him out of the castle, but not before roughing him up and taking some personal revenge of his own.

Suitors seemed to flood in after that and one by one they all left the castle, either by royal dismissal or by their own want. Some found the princess to be too aggressive for their liking, her demeanor and argumentative nature not what they were looking for in a queen. The king didn’t want his daughter with someone who wasn’t going to respect her and Abigail refused to be disrespected and if either of them got the slightest inkling that the prince didn’t agree, it was grounds for them to leave, a task Ichabod was always more than happy to help them do. Six months passed this way and Ichabod figured at the rate things were going, many others would too.

Then came Nick Hawley.

Prince Nicolas Nathanial Hawley was from the kingdom next door, the only child of the king and queen. He had written a letter to both the king and his daughter requesting to visit and they had both written him back, saying that he could. He arrived a few days later, with only one servant and one guard and they all wore clothing so modest that at first they had been mistaken for commoners attempting to enter the castle. It wasn’t until they had presented the princess’ letter that they had been let inside, apologizes from all of the staff and the royal family themselves. 

Ichabod hadn’t thought that the prince would be around long, giving him a week and a half, a fortnight at the most. And then three weeks passed. Four. Five. Two months went by and Ichabod found that day after day he was forced to see the prince’s blond head of hair turning corners in the castle. The king had been smitten with him from that first night when Hawley started trading hunting stories with him and had even done enough research to bring a bottle of the king’s favorite wine. While Abigail hadn’t been as out rightly expressive in her feelings towards the prince, she also hadn’t yet asked that he be sent away. Unlike others, Hawley had welcomed her arguments and criticisms of his ideas, even conceding that her view was the right one on more than one occasion. They were intellectually compatible, always discussing and reading together, and there had been more than a few incidents where servants had gone to rouse them from their beds only to find they hadn’t been slept in and that the two of them were fast asleep on the library floor. Ichabod had asked her about her feelings for the prince and she would usually shrug it off, saying that when she’d let him know she did.

 _‘Why do you care so much? Are you jealous, Sir Crane?’_ She had playfully asked once. Ichabod had blushed, not expecting the question.

 _‘You are my princess, and I am your knight. As your protector, it is my job to ensure your safety, and as your friend, there is nothing that I want more.’_

_‘Well, I can promise you that I am indeed quite safe. I do not believe that Prince Nick would do anything to hurt me.’_

_‘And as long as I am here, you have my word that he, nor anyone else, ever will.’_

_‘Thank you Sir Crane. What on earth would I do without my knight?’_

_‘A question you will never have to know the answer to.’_

Less than a week later, the king had invited Ichabod into his study for a celebratory drink: Nick had just asked his permission to propose to Abigail. Ichabod’s heart dropped into his stomach. He had spent years denying his feelings for Abigail, telling himself he was misreading protective instincts as romantic feelings, that he had spent so much time around her that the love he felt for her was platonic and that he loved her like a younger sister. But now, with someone else trying to enter the picture, he had no choice but to come to terms with what deep down inside he already knew: He was deeply in love with Princess Grace Abigail Mills and the girl he had grown up thinking of as _his_ princess, was never really his to begin with. 

A few days later, Nick had been forced to return home, a letter having arrived at the house proclaiming the untimely and unexpected death of his father. The prince had left that very night, and Ichabod would be lying if he said that he wasn’t happy to see him go. He hadn’t even been gone a full six hours when Abigail had barged into his bedroom, a small wooden box cradled in her hands. Before he could even ask, she had moved to sit beside him on his bed, and opened the box, revealing a ring inside of it, a large purple diamond in its center. She then pulled a letter from her pocket and handed it to him. 

In the letter, Nick apologized for his hurried departure; not wanting her to think him rude or that he was somehow leaving because of her. He went on to explain how much he enjoyed her company and how the months he had spent with her at the castle were the best of his entire life and he wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of his life talking to her if she was willing to have him. If she did, she was to write him a letter accepting his offer and he would return to her as soon as he was able. If she did not, she was to send him back the ring and he would never bother her again for anything besides her friendship if she would allow him that. It took every ounce of control that Ichabod had not to tear the piece of paper with his teeth and crush the pieces beneath his foot. He looked up to meet the princess’ eyes, to find her watching him with a very calculated expression on her face. 

 _‘He has asked you to be his wife.’_ He had finally said, Abigail nodding. 

 _‘He has.’_  

‘ _Will you accept?’_  

 _‘Do I have a reason not to?’_ Ichabod had frozen at the question, finding himself unable to move. _‘Nick is kind, generous, he cares about me and the things I have to say and treats me like a person, not an object. Can we say that anyone else who has come to see me? Besides, him asking me is nothing more than a formality when you take into account the fact that my father has already given his blessing. I could send him back the ring tomorrow and he would still have the right to come get me whenever he wanted.’_

 _‘Your father is a just man who would never subject his daughter to marrying a man she did not want.’_

_‘But he also does not want a daughter who is unmarriable. That does not bode well for his leadership or for the future of the nation. Prince Nick Hawley is a good match for me.’_

_‘But is he a perfect one?’_ Abigail had blinked at him in surprise, and Ichabod wanted to kick himself for allowing his anger to bleed through. Abigail continued to stare at him before silently placing the box and the letter on Ichabod’s side table. She moved closer until their legs were pressed against each other, far too close to be considered proper. The princess then maneuvered her hands into his and Ichabod couldn’t help noticing how perfect their hands seem to fit together, how perfectly they always had.

 _‘Is there such a thing as a perfect match, Ichabod?’_ She had whispered, her tone of voice much more serious than it had been before.

 _‘I am sure there is.’_

_‘And you think I have one? Somewhere?’_

_‘I’m positive you do. Somewhere.’_ Ichabod had wanted nothing more than to lean in and kiss her but he had found himself unable to do anything more than pull away, claiming he was exhausted from his day of training and that if she wanted to speak more in the morning, he would be more than happy to continue to conversation. She had said nothing, only nodding before picking up the ring from the table, curtsying in his direction, and promptly walking out.

The next morning, the king declared a national holiday in order to celebrate the engagement of his daughter and Prince Hawley with a magnificent party for all of the members of court in the palace that night. Ichabod was notably absent from the affair.

Now, a full year after that first suitor had shown up on the Sleepy Hollow castle steps, found himself in a room with the one person he had been actively avoiding. After the announcement, Prince Nick had soon returned and wedding arrangements began being made. The wedding would happen outside, the reception would take place in the main hall and a few days later, the two of them would return to Nick’s kingdom where they would begin their reign as King and Queen. The wedding was scheduled to take place the next afternoon, and Ichabod had already made sure to arrange it so he wouldn’t have to be there.

One of the princes who had been sent away had been so hurt that he had declared war on Sleepy Hollow. At first, it hadn’t been a big deal, the king not even bothering to write a response. But then, others who had been banished joined in, their army slowly becoming larger over time. Even now, their threat level still wasn’t high enough to raise too many flags and the king wanted to ensure that it stayed that way. He spoke to Ichabod about the possibility of him wanting to ride to the front lines and attempt to start a discussion that would hopefully end in peace and if it didn’t, then he also wanted Ichabod to be there to be the one leading the charge. He had quickly agreed and it was set that he and a small team of others would ride to the prince’s kingdom just a little after sunrise, long before the wedding was set to start.

His friendship with Abigail had been strained since the announcement of her engagement and he hadn’t known how to tell her he had decided to leave, so he simply decided to say nothing. Now as he knelt before her, the look on her face told him she already knew.

“Rise.” She commanded. “You know I much deplore being bowed to.”

“Which is why I continue to do so at every opportunity I get.” He said as he returned to a standing position, an unsure smile on his face. Usually, a response like that would garner a laugh from the princess, but this time all it earned him was a cold stare. Ichabod cleared his throat. “Princess-”

“You are leaving.” She said, interrupting him. Ichabod knew it wasn’t a question and had no choice but to nod.

“I am.”

“And you were not going to tell me.”

“I was unsure of how to bring it up.”

“And leaving without saying a word at all was the best idea you could come up with?” Ichabod sighed, his body suddenly feeling a lot heavier than it did when he first entered the room.

“I did not want to hurt you. I thought this would be the best option.”

“You thought that my oldest and dearest companion leaving me in the middle of the night without a word was the _best_ option?” 

“Well when you put it like that…” Abigail scoffed at his statement but he could see that there was no real heat behind it, the anger that had been evident on her face before was gone, now leaving only hurt and betrayal. She moved away from the window and over to sit on her bed. Ichabod started to move towards her, but thought better of it and stayed where he was. “I am sorry I was not completely honest with you.” He said, doing his best to pour everything he was feeling into his words. “I thought I was doing my job as your protector. I thought I was protecting you. After you become Prince Nicholas’ wife tomorrow, he will take over as your protector and you won’t have a need for me anymore so I figured it would just be easier if I was gone before I had to watch it happen.”

“Have you forgotten that you were my friend first? Even if your job was finished, did you honestly believe that I would no longer want you in my life? Or…or did you no longer want me in yours? Is that why you refrained from telling me? Because if that is the case-“

“Oh no, no no, my dear princess no.” This time, Ichabod gave into the urge to go to her, immediately falling to the ground at her feet. He took her soft hands in his, gently kissing the back of each one. “Removing you from my life is the absolute last thing I would ever want to do and you have my sincerest apologies for ever forcing you to believe that I did.”

“So then you will stay?”

“It is too late for that, princess. You and I both are well aware. Your father needs me to be out on the front lines.”

“And what of you? What do you need?” Ichabod smiled sadly. He rose to his feet pulling Abigail to stand as well. 

“Something I can never have.” He whispered, his eyes never leaving those of the girl in front of him. He watched as her face contorted into one of confusion before realization dawned on her. Ichabod moved to turn away, but the princess’ firm grip on his hands kept him where he was. “I am sorry my lady. I had no right to speak such things. I will go down to your father and request to leave immediately-“

“Why did you never say anything?” Abigail asked. “Crane, we could have had so many months together, _years_ even-“ 

“Only for us to end up in the exact position that we are currently in. As much as I care for you and as much as you care for me, you are still a princess and you have a duty to fulfill just as I have mine.” Abigail looked ready to argue and Ichabod could feel his resolve to leave crumbling. He pulled her to his chest, her head coming to rest in the crook of his neck with his chin falling on top of it. Her arms wrapped tightly around his back while one of his wrapped around her waist, his other running through her hair. “You are going to be a strong queen, a beautiful wife and a wonderfully fantastic mother. That is your duty princess. My duty is to lead my fellow knights into a peace treaty in order to ensure that you get to be all of those things. And I am more than happy to do so, even if it means sacrificing the one thing I want most.” 

“Me?” Abigail asked in an uncharacteristically small voice. Ichabod chuckled. 

“Yes, my love. _You._ ” Ichabod heard her sharp inhale and gently cradled her head in his hands forcing her to look up at him. She tried to duck her head again quickly but he stopped her, wiping the tears away with his thumbs. “Do not cry for me, princess. I loathe to ever be the reason for you to be upset. ” 

“It is just not fair.” She finally said. “You are everything I ever wanted and here you are saying that you want me back and yet…” 

“Yes. And yet. I wish there was another way, my dear, but unfortunately this is the hand we have been dealt and thus we must make the best of the situation. Just know that no matter what happens, or where I go or who attempts to come between us, you, Miss Grace Abigail Mills, have my heart, my soul and my all of my love from now until the end of my days.” 

“Really?” 

“You have my word.” Abigail nodded and her expression changed from a hopeless one to a thoughtful one, Ichabod internally groaning having learned from experience that she was thinking something terrible and that he was going to end up doing something he would either regret or that would bring him endless amusement and joy. Usually both. 

“So…since you are leaving,” Ichabod could already feel the regret building. “Does this mean that you got me a going away present? Or a wedding gift?”

“No, I can not say I have. In my haste to leave, it must have slipped my mind. I will be sure to send two to make up for it.”

“What if the gift I want can not be bought?” Ichabod narrowed his eyebrows. 

“What gift is there that can not be bought?” 

“Spend the night with me.” She quickly breathed out, her face immediately flushing with embarrassment even as she maintained their eye contact the entire time. Ichabod slowly nodded. 

“I will willingly stand watch over your door if that is what your grace wants.”

“No, Crane, listen. I want you to _spend the night with me._ ” Ichabod moved to nod and say he understood but stopped when the true intentions of her words hit him. He immediately took three steps back.

“Princess, this is not right. You are going to be married tomorrow-” 

“Because I am not allowed to marry the man I want due to having been born to the wrong family.” She interrupted, anger clear in her voice. “My entire upbringing has consisted of me being groomed and prepared for a life that I _never_ wanted. A life I _never_ asked for. I am supposed to spend my entire existence dedicating myself to all of those around me, selflessly serving a kingdom of people every single day until I draw my last breath. I have spent the past 18 years getting ready for the day when I would be forced to enter a country where I know none of the customs, none of the land, none of the _people_ , and all because of the mere fact that I am a princess and a princess _must_ marry.” At this point, Ichabod watched all of the tension drain from his her body and instead of angry, she suddenly looked small and very tired. As if she had been carrying a very heavy load around for years and was only just now beginning to buckle under its weight.

“I accepted,” she continued, her voice soft and sad. “A long time ago, that I would very rarely be allowed something I wanted if it did not align with my predetermined life plan. At fifthteen I accepted the fact that I would not be allowed to be with the one I loved because of that reason and when I left your room, I was happy because I figured it was better this way, that you not returning my feelings meant that we were never truly supposed to together in the first place.

“Tomorrow, I start a new life. Tonight, I only ask for this. One night where I am not _Princess Abigail_ or _Your Highness_ or _Your Grace_ or any other ridiculous pleasantries. I simply want to be a girl who is in love with a boy who loves her back just as much.”

“ _Abigail._ ”

“Crane. _Ichabod._ Please. When the sun rises, you can go back to being an honorable knight.”

“And who shall I be until then?” Abigail cracked a small smile for the first time since Ichabod had entered the room and held her hand towards him.

“ _Mine.”_ Ichabod moved to argue, but stopped himself before the words could leave his lips. Hadn’t he spent years envisioning this very scenario? A reality where the two of them could be together, even if it was only for a few hours before they were forced back into their separate circles? All of his training was telling him to turn around and head towards his own quarters but he couldn’t seem to find the will power to leave. Abigail was looking up at him with wide hopeful eyes and the knight thought his heart was going to beat right out of his chest. They had both devoted their lives to others, knowing very well it would mean constantly sacrificing their own joy. Therefore shouldn’t they be allowed this one indiscretion? This one happiness? This one _night?_

With that in mind, he slowly walked back towards her, took her outstretched hand in both of his and carefully kissed each knuckle before raising her other hand to his mouth and doing the same thing. “Yours.” He responded. “I have _always been yours._ ”

“ _Crane._ ” 

“ _Oh Abbie._ ” It was impossible to say who moved first, but before Ichabod had realized it, he had his arms full of princess and Abigail’s lips pressed firmly against his. During his time as her protector, he had caught her sneaking a few kisses (which as her best friend he pretending not to see) so he knew he wasn’t her first, something that intuitively made him draw pull her body even closer. She gasped in surprise at the forcefulness of the move and Ichabod started to pull away, only to find himself unable as she curled both of her hands in his hair to keep him in place.

Sooner than he would have liked, Abigail was pulling away from the kiss, only to playfully shove him backwards on the bed. Ichabod grabbed her hand at the last second and pulled her down with him, the two of them landing in the center with a huff. The princess quickly shimmied up the comforter so they were lying side by side and leaned in to kiss him again, only for the knight to shake his head and stop her.

“Now Abigail,” he started, earning a deep sigh for his trouble. He grinned. “ _Abigail_ , we do not have to do anything uncouth. I would be completely content to spend the rest of my time in Sleepy Hollow doing nothing more than simply lying next to you.” Abigail’s annoyed expression transformed into something softer and she moved in close until there was barely space between their bodies for a piece of parchment and Ichabod could almost feel her lips moving against his own.

“I am well aware of that fact Crane, and I commend you for it. However, that is not what I want. I wish to lie with you as a woman lies with a man. I do not have control over many things in my life, but I do have control over this. I want you to be my first. King Nickolas Hawley will have me in name and in marriage, but you my dear knight will have had me in every other sense and that is something that no one can ever change.” 

“Well how am I supposed to argue against that?” Abigail laughed, it quickly disintegrated into a moan as Ichabod leaned down and nipped lightly at her exposed collarbone. The princess had clearly been dressed for bed as gone were the thick, complicated looking dresses she usually wore and instead she had on a simple long-sleeved cream nightgown with delicate strings done up the middle and tied across the bosom in a bow. Ichabod himself was dressed in nothing more than a thin shirt, loose pants and worn boots, having come as soon as he had been summoned, not even taking tine to get redressed. He quickly kicked off his shoes before turning back to the girl in front of him. Abigail smiled warmly at him as she tugged on the bottom of his shirt.

“I do not believe we can do this with you fully dressed, Crane.” 

“I could say the same about you.” He responded but did as she implied, pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it to the side. Abigail made no move to hide her open appreciation of his chest and Ichabod couldn’t help posturing a little bit. She giggled and pulled him back in, resuming their kissing from before. Now having been given explicit permission, Ichabod wasted no time in plundering her mouth with his tongue, an action that Abigail was surprised about before quickly getting on board. He could taste the sweet wine that they had all consumed at dinner and found himself trying to search out the taste. He couldn’t seem to keep his hands still, his fingers seeming to try and map out every line and curve of the princess’ body. He maneuvered their positions so that he was lying on top of her, her thighs bracketing his body. When he heard no protest from her, he gently stroked her outer thigh, rucking up her nightgown in the process.

“Is-is this alright?” Ichabod asked, pulling away from the kiss and earning a nod in return. With his eyes locked on hers, Abigail reached up and slowly untied the ribbon on her dress, and Ichabod held his breath as the fabric slowly began to fall away, revealing the delicate body that Ichabod had spent many a shameful hour dreaming about. Soft skin the shade of coffee with milk, a feminine curve to her hips, and legs that seemed to never end. “Your body is truly a work of heart, Abbie. I am amazed that you do not have poets constantly writing about it.” 

“That is because no one has ever seen it.”

“And no one else ever will.” Ichabod growled, causing the girl below him to smirk in response. 

“I always knew you were the jealous type, Sir Crane.”

“Only for you, my love. No one else.” The princess’ smirk turned into a full blown grin and she leaned up to kiss him wrapping her arms around his neck in the process and bring their bare chests flush against each other for the first time. They both gasped at the contact. “ _Abbie_ -”

“Write me a poem, Crane.” She muttered.

“I would spend the rest of my life worshipping at your altar if you wanted me to.” 

“ _More.”_

“Your breasts are perfect.” He continued, moving his hands down to cup one in each hand, lightly thumbing the nipples. “Just like the rest of you. I could ‘d paint them if I could but there is no point since they would never be able to measure up to the real thing.” He leaned down, alternating placing kisses on each one. “Your stomach,” he said as he moved downwards. “Is soft, like the rest of you with skin that looks good enough to _eat_.” He said gently biting just above her belly button. “I’ve pictured you with your legs over my shoulders for far longer than is respectable.” Abigail’s breathing got faster as he moved further down the bed, spreading her thighs while moving to rest completely between them. He paused to meet her eyes and was delighted to find the pupils blown and her bottom lip being worried between her teeth in anticipation. He placed a kiss on top of her mound, his nose nestling in the black hairs he found there. He hummed in satisfaction, sliding a finger through her folds and pulling it away wet. He licked it clean. 

“Just as sweet as I thought you would be.”

_“Crane. Please.”_

“You’re going to have to be more specific than that.” He slid his fingers through her folds again only this time he added his mouth to the mix, the two body parts working in tandem. He could feel the princess quivering above him as he delicately entered her with his finger, taking extra care to keep his tongue on the little button where it was. “Do you want me to continue or do you want me to stop?” He pulled away long enough to ask before going right back in, only this time with two fingers. Abigail’s light quivering turned into full-blown body shudders.

“Cra-Crannn _eee…_ ”

“What is it, my dear?” Surprisingly, Ichabod felt a hand grip his hair and pull and unable to deny her anything, he went with it until he was once again rightfully on top of her, their faces only inches apart and their eyes locked on the other.

“I want you.”

“You already have me.” Abigail glared but it was clear that there was no real heat behind it. The princess reached down with her hand and deliberately rubbed it against his still clothed member and forcing the groan out of him. She smiled before leaning up to bite on his ear in a way that suddenly had the knight questioning how he had lived his whole life without her having done that before.

“ _I. Want. You.”_ She punctuated each word with a firmer stroke and Ichabod could already tell that he wouldn’t last long. He quickly rid himself of his breeches and when he was entirely bare, he took himself in hand and lined their bodies up, stopping just outside of her entrance. 

“My love,” He started apologetically. “I feel the need to warn you, there is a good chance you will feel some discomfort.” Abigail smiled softy and ran a hand through his hair as she pulled him closer.

“I know Crane. I have not changed my mind. Just…”

“ _Yes_?”

“Be gentle?” The princess’ voice had gone soft again and Ichabod nodded wrapped an arm tighter around her waist while she hid her face in his neck. Slowly, the knight used the hand still wrapped around himself and began to breach her entrance, gauging her reacting with every inch. 

“Would you like to stop?” He murmured when he was halfway in. The princess shook her head, face still hidden. Ichabod laid a kiss on the side of her head before continuing, huffing out a deep sigh when he was fully inside. Abigail whimpered and he pulled back enough that he could look down at her. “Princess?”

“I am fine.” She replied even though she made no attempt to hide the discomfort on her face. “I just…give me a moment.”

“As many as you wish.” Ichabod did his best to comfort her as he waited rubbing a hand up and down her arm, placing kisses all over her face, and murmuring praises in her ear. Soon enough, Abigail began to fidget beneath him, experimentally rolling her hips as she felt out the new sensations. Ichabod tensed above her and had to think about his experiences on the battlefield in order to strive off the climax that he could rapidly feel coming. “Princess-”

“Well are you going to move or are you going to make me do all of the work?” Ichabod arched an eyebrow and the princess let out a face-splitting grin. “Well are you?”

“If I had known you were going to be so demanding I do not believe I would I have agreed to this in the first place.”

“Do not act as if you don’t love me.”

“You are right. _I do_.” Before the princess could say anything, Ichabod had pulled her into a kiss at the same time that he slowly begun to pull out of her before sinking back in. Both parties let out simultaneous groans. Ichabod kept up his rhythm of slow thrusts, as they both got accustomed to the feeling: Abigail for the first time and Ichabod feeling as though it would be his last. Even with knowing that come daylight she would belong to someone else, the thought of ever doing this with someone else had feelings of guilt welling inside of him that he quickly brushed away, forcing himself to be nowhere else except here, in a bed, with the woman he loved. He lightly nipped at her shoulder.

“Would you like me to go faster?” He asked. Abigail nodded and when Ichabod thrust back in, she moved to meet him, now an active participant. The knight couldn’t resist leaning down and taking a nipple in his mouth. Abigail gasped and her hands flew to his head to keep him there. Her inner muscles clenched around him as he worried the hardened bud with his teeth and Ichabod’s eyes practically rolled into the back of his head. He pulled off and gave the other nipple the same treatment, eliciting the same response from the girl beneath him. _“_ Oh Miss _Mills_ ,” 

“ _Crane_!” After that it was as if the floodgates had opened and once they had, there was no holding back. Their kisses got sloppier as the movements of their bodies got harder and faster. The princess wrapped her legs around Ichabod’s waist and he in turn placed one hand under her hip, the other traveling down the front of her body and coming to rest just above where they were joined. He took his thumb and began to move it in small circles and was not let down when Abigail fisted the blanket beneath her and whimpered his name.

“Right…there…” She moaned. “Cl- _close. I, I can’t-”_

“I do not want you to hold back.” He answered. “I want to see it, you. Let go, love.” Abigail let out a whine and the grip on her comforter tightened, her whole body going rigid.

“ _Crane_!” Ichabod felt her walls tighten again as her body convulsed, her face scrunched up in pleasure and her teeth practically tearing a hole through her bottom lip. Ichabod watched her come undone and did his best to commit it to memory, lovingly stroking her hair as he waited for her to come down. When her breathing had finally gotten back to normal, Abigail slowly reopened her eyes, her face going flush with embarrassment. Ichabod, refusing to let her feel bad, swooped in and kissed her.

“You were beautiful.” He remarked, murmuring against her lips. “Thank you for allowing me to see that.” The princess rolled her eyes in an attempt to brush the comment off, but the small smile she had on her face while doing it, informed him that she did in fact enjoy it. She pulled him down into a sweet kiss before slowly beginning to move her hips again. Ichabod was suddenly reminded that he had yet to find his own release and let out a gasp. “Abigail-”

“Let go, Crane.” She said, leaning up to suck a mark on the skin just under his collarbone. “Let go, love. _Let go._ ” Having never been able to deny her anything, Ichabod resumed his thrusts from before with Abigail egging him on, cooing in his ear. When she bit down on his ear, it was all Ichabod could do to refrain from shouting, instead choosing to bury his face in her shoulder, tremors wracking his entire body, Abigail’s hands soothingly running up and down his back. When he finally finished, his arms collapsed underneath him and he slumped down on top of the girl beneath him. He eventually rolled off of her getting up and walking over to the water basin the princess kept on her dresser. He took the towel next to it and wet it before walking back over to the bed and carefully wiping her down before doing the same to himself. By the time he had walked back from returning it to the dresser, the princess had already worked her way down and under the comforter, to which he quickly joined her, maneuvering them so that her back was snug against his chest and she was using his left arm as a pillow, while his right one fell over her waist.

“How do you feel?” He asked after they had been silent for a few minutes.

“Honestly? I think this is truly the happiest I have been in a long time. And will be. In a long time.” Ichabod grunted in agreement as he nuzzled her shoulder, peppering the edge of it with soft slow kisses. “I wish it didn’t have to end.” 

“Let us speak of it no more.” Abigail turned to look at him in confusion. “I just want to pretend for a little while that this is our normal. That we get to fall asleep like this every night and we have no worries and no commitments and no rules. That I get to be yours and you get to be mine. I don’t want to think about _tomorrow_. I just want us to be right here, right now.” The princess nodded solemnly before turning back around and intertwining her fingers with the ones wrapped around her waist.

“How many kids do we have?”

“Three.” Ichabod responded without hesitation. “Grace, Jenny and Ichabod Jr.” Abigail laughed. 

“Of course!” She exclaimed. “Why should I be the only one bogged down with the name grace? Do we live in a cottage?” 

“Only be a few steps away from the sea. And I work as a fisherman and you a seamstress and every year on our anniversary, your father takes the kids and we spend the whole night remembering how much we love each other.”

“Sounds beautiful.” Abigail remarked. “I love it.” Ichabod nodded.

“Me too.”

“I wish it was real.”

“…me too.” 

* * *

Far sooner than Ichabod would have liked, he was woken by the sound of church bells ringing five times. He squinted out the nearby window, relieved to see that the sun hadn’t yet risen, though it was clear that it would soon. He wasn’t even surprised to find Abigail still asleep, most of their childhood consisting of it being someone’s specific job to deal with rousing her from her slumber, most of the time the unfortunate soul being himself. He moved a stray hair away from her eye, and her face twitched at the action, but she continued sleeping peacefully. Ichabod contemplated waking her up but couldn’t bear to disturb the beautiful sleeping picture she made. He silently untangled himself from the bed and redressed, attempting to look as presentable as possible. 

“So this is it, then? This is good bye?” He had been less than a foot away from the door when her voice had stopped him and regretfully, he turned to look at her. She was still lying down for the most part, the expression on her face, one of reluctant acceptance. He nodded grimly.

“I am only a short letter away, my dear. All you need to do is send for me and I shall come running as fast as my horse can bring me.” Abigail gave him a soft smile, her tongue peeking out of her mouth to lick her lips.

“I shall miss you dearly, Sir Crane.” She finally said, sending Ichabod’s heart beating at a faster pace than he could count. He spun to face the door, attempting to stop feeling like it was going to jump out of his chest.

“And I you, princess.” 

“Crane?” Ichabod couldn’t resist turning at the sound of his name, and he felt as if all of the air in his body was being squeezed out of his throat. By this point, Abigail had sat up on her knees, with the sheet held tightly to her person, and her hair wild and untamed, much like her spirit that he had grown to love. Just as before, he spent a few moments just looking at her, doing his best to memorize everything in front of him, so that no matter what happened, this moment, this day, was something he would be able to hold onto for the rest of his life. 

“Yes, Abbie?” With the sheet still shielding her body, she got out of the bed and walking in front of it, pulling herself up to her full height and putting on her best “royal face”, one he had seen countless times as she commanded rooms and all of those around her. Usually, that look directed at him, would elicit him dropping to his knees and fervently apologizing for whatever it was that he had done. Now, however, she just looked adorable. 

“No matter what happens,” She stated. “Or what becomes of either of us, you will always be my protector, my friend, and most of all, my knight.”

“And you, Miss Mills, will always, now and forever, be my princess.”

“Crane?” 

“Yes your grace?” Abigail smiled softly, shaking her head at the term. Ichabod smiled in response. 

“I will be writing you a letter every week while you are away and I shall be expecting one in return. Any form of insolence or refusal to write back, will not be accepted.” Ichabod made no attempt to hide his joy at the statement, the grin on his face evident and large. He sunk into a deep bow, his eyes never leaving hers. 

“As you wish." 

“ _Oh_ _Crane?”_

“I _really_ must be leaving-”

“I love you.” Ichabod froze at the words, stunned as his emotions were split in two: half of him was ecstatic at having heard them, the other half angry that this was the first time they were being said. Eventually, he let the joy take over, relaxing and looking at her with all of the love in his heart.

“I love you more than I can put into words.” He replied. “And I vow to love you until I no longer have the ability to say them.” Ichabod could make just about make out the small tears being to form in Abigail’s eyes and he also noticed that her strong posture was beginning to crumble.

“Goodbye, Sir Crane.” 

“Goodbye, Princess Mills.” And with one final look, Ichabod walked out the door, and shut it behind him, along with the memories of the night and his affections for the girl he was being forced to leave behind.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading and I hoped you liked it and if you did, please leave me a review! Also constructive criticism! You can't get better, if you don't know what it is that you're doing wrong so if you see something, say something (especially since this hasn't been beta read, so if you see a mistake, please let me know!) and I will love you forever! 
> 
> Also, as of right now (07/09) the idea of a sequel is currently spinning around in my head, but I wouldn't get my hopes up too high for it! If it happens, it happens and if not, thanks for enjoying my take on the SH universe! Love you all!


End file.
